


Meeting My Memory (It's Not Easy)

by darthearts



Category: K-pop, Mamamoo
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 14:30:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12843165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthearts/pseuds/darthearts
Summary: Moonbyul and Solar break up but things don't go smoothly





	Meeting My Memory (It's Not Easy)

**Author's Note:**

> For @Eatandshit on twitter.

They don’t talk anymore.

Because how can they when Moonbyul cracks stupid jokes with a hoarse voice and keeps her crying behind closed doors while Solar skips dinners and goes to the practice room at 3am? All they do is avoid each other and Moonbyul honestly doesn’t know how long they can keep this up, cannot help but question how long they can keep playing this game of pretence.

Moonbyul wonders if Solar ever cries, if she goes to the practice room to let her walls down instead. Even if she does, Moonbyul can no longer comfort her like she used to, not when she is the source of Solar’s distress and discomfort.

In retrospect, Solar should have stopped her. She should have stopped her when feelings started growing, hands started wandering and lips started nearing.  The leader should have stomped out her emotions and played her part as an unnie. Really, she should have because Moonbyul could not stop herself. Her love for Solar was a garden and she wanted to get lost in it and forget the world. She didn’t think that Solar—rational, realistic—would want the same thing.

When the world came crashing through the door, wrenching them apart in the process, they were forced to separate like star-crossed lovers. Bruised and battered, the immediate damage control was messy. Wheein had to keep a broken Moonbyul away from Solar (because she would insist on being with Solar) and Hyejin needed to accompany an inconsolable Solar. Wheein and Hyejin had hoped that they wouldn’t end up at this point but things had run its course. While love did not run out, time did and they needed to part because that was what the world wanted. (It was never about what they wanted.)

Sometimes she catches Solar staring at her with the same look of longing Moonbyul is sure is written on her own face and it gets harder to draw away and pull back. She cannot count the number of times her fingers have twitched, yearning to reach out and feel familiarity—the smoothness of Solar’s skin, the curve of her waist, or the small of her back. It is all too easy to be tempted to fall back into what she knows.

Now that the tension is no longer high strung and there is no dramatic weeping and moping, things have settled and become dreary. Moonbyul doesn’t see flashes of red or overwhelming blue—everything has dulled down to a monochrome. She thinks she doesn’t feel anymore but when morning arrives after a sleepless night, the burning behind her eyes return. 

The morning sun reminds her of Solar.

///

“Unnie, are you okay?”

Wheein asks and Moonbyul cannot remember how many times the question has been posed to her in the past few weeks. Her replies and reassurances of ‘yes, I’m okay’ are usually accompanied by tight-lipped smiles meant to convince but Moonbyul knows she isn’t fooling anyone. She hates that she is jeopardizing the team, hates being the burden, hates that she isn’t carrying her weight. (But she hates being the source of Solar’s sadness the most.) 

“I’m fine,” she murmurs another lie, unsure of how many lies have escaped her lips, unsure of how many lies she would have to tell in the future.

The brief conversation between her and Wheein has Hyejin sending looks of concern to Moonbyul as she adjusts her microphone. From the corner of her eye, she notices Solar giving a fleeting glance before turning away, double checking her own outfit in the mirror. Before everything (the break-up and the transition from lovers to strangers), Solar would have approached her, placed a gentle hand on her elbow, and made funny faces to try get a laugh out of her. 

She doesn’t do any of that now, feigning nonchalance and avoiding Moonbyul altogether. 

It is one thing to do that in the privacy of their dorm, but on stage, they cannot even afford to look awkward. That is when Moonbyul feels most like crying—when she sees all the unadulterated love in Solar’s eyes. Because nothing feels as right as to let all the walls she built collapse, to fall (again) into the warmth and light of Solar’s smile.

And when they step off the stage, Solar lets the smile drop and she shuts away Moonbyul, doesn’t even look at her. Moonbyul is thrust into the darkness and it’s so much more frightening when she already knows how it feels to be in the light.

“I’m okay,” Moonbyul repeats when Wheein looks at her with sympathy, but she’s not sure who she is trying to convince anymore.

The music show producer directs them on stage and they bow and greet the audience. They get into their starting positions and Moonbyul cannot help but look at Solar—she only ever looks at Solar. Her breath hitches when she realizes that Solar is watching her and they make eye contact. 

Solar smiles.

When the spotlights are reflected in Solar’s eyes, it’s almost easy for Moonbyul to pretend that they don’t speak of something _more_. 

///

“I didn’t know the M in Moonbyul stood for Masochist.”

Hyejin is by the doorway of her room, an eyebrow raised at the display screen of her laptop. Moonbyul jabs the spacebar and the screen freezes, capturing a moment in which Solar was looking at Moonbyul with a wide grin—a picture of happiness. To anyone else, it looks like simply close friends hanging out. But Moonbyul knows how Solar looks like when she is in love, when she has love secretly written on her lips. (Solar only ever looked at Moonbyul that way.)

“You should at least _try_ to get over her,” Hyejin says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

It is easier for Moonbyul to convince herself that Solar doesn’t love her anymore. Solar makes that easy for her because she no longer shows any form of concern, treating Moonbyul like she has never existed, never making eye contact with her. She wonders how hard it is for Solar to make things easy for her. She can’t even begin to imagine because she still cares for the girl, still loves her like air—only that one cannot rely on mere oxygen to survive.

Hyejin moves over swiftly, grabbing the mouse and clicking the tab away at once. The frozen frame of what once was disappears and Moonbyul cannot understand why it makes her eyes sting and burn.

“I love her,” Moonbyul chokes out, the words tumbling out of her mouth out of her own accord. “I still love her.”

Hyejin softens, placing a gentle hand on Moonbyul’s shoulder, “I know.”

Sobs wreck her body and she is shaking as tears spill. Hyejin kneels down and pulls Moonbyul softly into a hug, patting her back lightly. Moonbyul clings to Hyejin, hands fisted into her shirt tightly, leaving ugly creases on the fabric. The tears don’t stop and she bites her lip to keep them from trembling. She squeezes her eyes shut, causing more tears to fall, trying not to sob aloud.

As she opens her eyes, she sees Solar at the door, eyes wide and bright. She catches the wet shimmer in her eyes—the only reason Solar’s eyes are filled with light. 

Moonbyul gasps and her body involuntarily tenses. Hyejin seems to have felt Moonbyul go rigid, because she lets go of Moonbyul and turns around. The girl mutters a low curse under her breath when she spots Solar.

“Unnie…” Hyejin calls out hesitantly, troubled voice trailing off as she does so.

Solar blinks, a single tear drop escaping and making its way down her cheek. 

It seems to have shaken her up and she wipes it away hurriedly with the back of her hand. She turns to Hyejin, eyes avoiding Moonbyul’s.

“Hyejin-ah, your mother called earlier,” Solar says, voice devoid of emotion.

“Oh, okay,” Hyejin nods, squeezing Moonbyul’s shoulder reassuringly as she gets up.

As she walks past Solar, she leans in and whispers something to Solar. The latter stiffens as she hears the words and Moonbyul has an inkling of what was said. Without Hyejin, the atmosphere thickens with tension and Moonbyul has to resist the urge to have Solar in her arms again and kiss away her fears. The leader steps into the room cautiously, like she’s treading on eggshells and Moonbyul hates how she makes her uncomfortable.

Solar closes the door softly before settling on the edge of Moonbyul’s bed politely like a stranger. She looks down at the floor and her hands are gripping the bed sheets too tightly. Moonbyul wants to take her hands gently and hold them because she knows Solar calms down when she does that. Her hands instinctively reach out, but she pauses in mid-air before letting them drop to her side, realizing that she has no right to do that anymore.

For a long time, neither of them speaks. The silence is filled with unsaid words of love and longing, but they do not acknowledge it. They can’t do that anymore. Moonbyul just balls her hands into fists, letting her nails sink into her palm in hopes that the pain will distract her from wanting to comb her fingers through Solar’s hair.

Finally, Solar speaks.

“Byul-ah,” Solar begins.

Hearing Solar say her nickname makes her chest tighten in only ways Solar can.  

“I’m leaving,” Solar says quietly. “I’m going to stay with my parents for a few days.”

Her vision blurs instantly at the words. She wishes she could make Solar stay. She knows how to get the girl to stay—she is sure that if she begs and pleads, Solar would change her mind. But Moonbyul knows that if Solar doesn’t leave, things are going to regress and feelings might push them to impulsivity. She knows that Solar is suffering just by being here, seeing her every single day, and that it is selfish of Moonbyul to ask her to stay.

That is why she doesn’t.

“Yeah, you should—you should leave,” Moonbyul splutters. “That’d be good—good for us.”

She stares at the ground so that Solar cannot see the tears in her eyes, but she has a feeling that Solar knows anyway.

“I thought so too,” Solar barely whispers. “I think we both need time.”

Moonbyul croaks, “When are you leaving?”

“Tonight.”

Moonbyul lifts her head at that, because she honestly doesn’t know if Solar leaving so soon will kill her or save her. 

Solar isn’t crying but she looks so broken and _tired_. Even so, she still looks at Moonbyul with love in her eyes. It makes Moonbyul wish that Solar would fall in love with someone else because it’s so hard to look away and Moonbyul is afraid the light might blind her again.

“I won’t see you out later.”

“Okay,” she breathes out, resigned.

Moonbyul turns back to her latop, refusing to watch Solar walk away from her. She keeps her eyes trained on her laptop screen, nails still digging into her skin. Somehow, a question makes its way past her lips unconsciously.

“Yongsun, do you think we can ever be together?”

When there is no answer, Moonbyul turns, only to see an open door and Solar gone. 

She blinks before laughing bitterly to herself, accepting the silence as her only answer.

///

Over the span of three days, Moonbyul sees Wheein and Hyejin more often than she would like to, but she figures it is good to just hang out with them. Wheein tickles Moonbyul often just to make Moonbyul laugh and Hyejin plays horror video games with her and makes sure she makes it past every stage of the game. They occupy her time and most importantly, even though Moonbyul doesn’t forget, she manages to push Solar to the back of her mind for at least a while thanks to them.

Solar doesn’t call back and if not for the clothes still hanging in her wardrobe and the room decorations, it nearly seems as if Solar never lived here. Somehow, Solar not being here doesn’t kill Moonbyul because it’s easier for her to pretend that she isn’t in love with the girl.

She is no longer scared of Solar’s absence, but of Solar’s presence instead.

She doesn’t know how to face her own memories when Solar returns.

///

As Moonbyul steps into the dorm, she is greeted by wary gazes and pursed lips. Wheein looks contrite and Hyejin is wearing a bothered frown. It is only then that she spots a duffel bag at the corner of the living room and a few plastic bags on the dining table. There is some rustling coming from Solar’s room and Moonbyul has a sinking feeling that she knows why.

“Hyejin-ah, can you do me a favor and bring my duffel bag in? My hands are kind of full right now,” a familiar voice calls out.

Moonbyul feels her chest tighten at the voice that she longed to hear but cannot bear. Something in her stirs and her legs take her across the room quickly, fingers curling around the handle of the duffel bag. 

“ _Don’t_ ,” Wheein starts. “Unnie, don’t. You don’t have to do this.”

Hyejin crosses to her and holds her wrist, eyes telling her to leave while Solar doesn’t know. Moonbyul pries Hyejin’s fingers off slowly, shaking her head to tell her it’s okay. She stubbornly picks up the duffel bag and enters Solar’s room, putting the duffel bag on the floor silently and closing the door behind her.

Solar is staring at a photo and Moonbyul recognizes the picture instantly—an instant photo of her and Solar at the amusement park. (It was Solar’s favourite photo, because they were on the ferris wheel when they took the picture at night and the girl thought it was beautiful. Moonbyul thinks Solar was right.)

“Yongsun _unnie_ ,” Moonbyul calls out softly.

The girl turns and inhales sharply when Moonbyul’s eyes meet hers. She places the photo frame flat on the desk, face down, and she approaches Moonbyul quickly. Moonbyul loses her breath when Solar wraps her arms around her warmly like she used to before the break-up. She feels like cannot breathe with Solar this close and she doesn’t know how her heart is still beating.

“Byul-ah, we’re okay, right?” Solar asks.

Her voice is neutral but Moonbyul hears the desperation for confirmation in the spaces between the words. Because an answer is what Solar anxiously seeks, Moonbyul nods, allowing Solar to let her go as she does so. When Solar steps back, she is smiling and Moonbyul hasn’t seen Solar smile like _that_ for a while now.

“Friends? Just like how we were before?” Solar tilts her head and asks with a soft smile.

Moonbyul cannot find it in herself to say no, not when Solar is looking at her like this—warm and expectant. 

“Yeah. _Friends_ ,” she breathes, giving in to Solar (because she knows that she can’t give Solar the world, so this is all that she can give).

When Solar looks at her with the sun in her eyes, Moonbyul feels her heart beat for the girl whose light blinds her once more. But it’s okay, she can pretend it doesn’t.

It’s (not) easy.

 


End file.
